


Beast

by TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite



Series: Sam Winchester Reader-inserts [21]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Disneyland, Background Destiel, F/M, Fluff, Sam is a Disneyland Prince
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 17:23:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12392649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite/pseuds/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite
Summary: You never thought working at Disneyworld would result in more than some memories and a paycheck.





	Beast

You glance up as Beast stumbles into the cafeteria. It’s only your second day of work and you haven’t met the majority of the other cast members, especially not the princes and princesses. After all, you’re only a ride operator. Between that and being new, there’s no way the royalty of the amusement park would interact with you. Which means you’re more than shocked to watch Beast cross the room with his lunchbox and sit across from you.

Beast is huge, tall and broad shouldered. You wonder how much of that is natural and how much is part of his costume- shoulder pads or something like that. He folds himself onto the bench, setting down his lunchbox, and reaches up to remove his costume head. You have to keep from staring as he takes off his helmet and draws a deep breath.

Holy shit, Beast is hot.

His long hair is tied up in a messy ponytail, sweaty wisps floating free to frame an angular, almost ethereal face. His has high cheekbones and fox-tilted eyes of a color you can’t decide on, and the beginnings of a five o’clock shadow dust his jaw. He smiles brightly at you, flashing dimples and perfect white teeth.

“Hi,” he says, stripping off his gloves and setting him by the costume head. “I haven’t seen you around before, so you must be new. I’m Sam.”

You shake his offered hand. “Y/N. This is my second day.”

“What section of the park do you work in?” Sam inquires, unzipping his lunchbox and pulling out a Tupperware of salad.

“I’m in Tomorrowland right now. I got lucky and assigned to the Space Mountain crew.”

“My brother loves that ride. I’m more of a Star Tours guy myself. Not that I spend much time at the park when I’m not working.”

You can’t help a smile. “I don’t blame you.”

Sam grins, digging into his salad. “So, how’d you end up here?”

You shrug. “Just moved to Anaheim and I needed the job. What about you?”

“My brother, Dean, used to be a ride operator in California Adventure. He suggested I apply. The interviewer suggested I audition for Beast, since they were looking for a new one.”

“Do you like it?” you ask, taking a drink from your water bottle.

“Most days, yeah. I don’t wear the costume all day, but I double as a part time security guard on the days I’m not scheduled for an appearance- which is pretty much all the time. I’m really only in a couple parades and the Fantasma shows. That’s why I’m here now, dressed like this.” He gestures to his outfit. “They cast a new Belle and we needed to do some rehearsals.”

“Bet the costume is a nightmare.” You give the costume head a pointed look.

He laughs. “Oh yeah. Especially during the summer. But it’s usually cooled down a little in the evenings. During rehearsals, they make sure to give me lots of breaks so I don’t overheat. It’s happened before.”

“Makes me extra glad my job is primarily indoors,” you admit. “Gotta love air conditioning. Plus, it’s a bit quieter.”

“Oh, I bet. I’m gonna go deaf early because of all the screaming kids I meet.”

Your supervisor, a short, pretty brunette woman named Meg appear by the table. “Hey, Y/N. Five minutes left until we have to get back.” She flashes Sam a charming, slightly sleazy smile. “Hiya, moose.”

“Hi, Meg,” Sam says cheerfully. “How’s Cas doing?”

“He’s doing great. He’s on a tour for his latest book right now. Did Dean not tell you?”

Sam shakes his head. “Haven’t talked to him in a few days.”

“Well, he’s been pretty busy at the shop. I’ll tell him you say hi. Finish up, Y/N. We gotta get back.” She saunters away.

You quickly finish the last of your sandwich and pack your dirty dishes back into your lunchbox. “It was nice meeting you, Sam,” you tell the other cast member.

“Likewise. Maybe I’ll see you around? I get assigned to Tomorrowland at least once a week when I’m on security.”

You hope you don’t sound too eager when you say “I would like that.”

* * *

You don’t see Sam- aside from some glimpses of the Fantasma show and down the hall to the dressing rooms- for a while. Part of you says crushing on a coworker is a really bad idea- a really, really bad idea- but part of you insists it’s not a crush. He’s just really nice and you would like to get to know him better. That’s all.

You can’t suppress a thrill of excitement, though, when he joins you at lunch again. This time he’s dressed in his security uniform. It’s far from the most flattering outfit- not that his character costume or, hell, your own uniform, is much better- but he manages to pull it off. The crisp white shirt highlights the broadness of his shoulders and the narrowness of his waist as he crosses the cafeteria to join you at your table. The checkered tie is a little ridiculous, but does what a tie is intended to do- a.k.a. Direct your gaze downward- and you end up following long, blue-slack encased legs to the floor.

“I know,” he says when he sees you staring. “I look ridiculous.”

“I know, I look ridiculous,” Sam sighs, flopping down in the seat across from you.

“You don’t look ridiculous at all,” you assure him. “Though anyone else might.”

Holy shit, did those words just come out of your mouth?

You duck your head, blushing, and watch a shy grin spread across Sam’s face. “Thanks,” he says, cheeks just as red as yours. “My brother says I look like a clown.”

“Well, he’s your brother. That’s “Well, he’s your brother,” you point out. “That’s his job.”

“Very true,” Sam says with a chuckle.

“Just the one sibling?”

Sam nods, spreading his lunch out on the table. “Just me and Dean. He and his boyfriend, Cas, met over on DCA. Now Dean owns his own mechanics shop and Cas writes novels.”

“Maybe I’ve read some of his stuff. What’s his name?”

“You might have. His name is Castiel Novak. He wrote the ‘Supernatural’ series, and now he’s working on a spin-off about some of the popular female characters from his first books.”

“Yeah, Wayward Daughters! I’m excited for those. I really enjoyed the Supernatural series.” a realization hits you then. “Hang on. You guys are the Sam and Dean that inspired the books aren’t you?”

Sam shrugs shyly. “Yeah, that’s us.”

You mean your elbows on the table. “Is there any truth behind the stories?”

“There might be a little truth,” he says, tone light. You know he’s hinting at something more. “But you have to tell me about you first.”

“Oh?” you arch an eyebrow at him. “Is this a ‘I show you mine, you show me yours’ deal?”

“If that’s what you want it to be.”

“Well, there’s not enough time in a lunch break for that.”

“Then I suppose we’ll have to meet outside of lunch.”

“Sam Winchester.” you fix him with a stern look. “Are you asking me on a date?”

His cheeks redden and his food suddenly becomes very interesting. “If I was…?”

“I would ask when.”

All the tension leaves his body at those words. He grins across the table. “Does six on Saturday work for you?”

“That works for me,” you assure him.

You walk away from the lunch table, but it feels like you’re floating. Not even a whole family of pissed of park guests can bring you down. After all, you have Sam Winchester’s phone number written on your palm.

* * *

“Someone’s in a good mood,” your roommate and coworker, Charlie, observes when you arrive home.

“Someone has a date,” you reply, hanging your jacket on the hook by the door and propping your umbrella up underneath it to dry. It started sprinkling just after lunch, but the rain has picked up now and you’re glad you thought of your umbrella this morning. California is surprisingly wet.

“Ooh, give me all the details!” Charlie crossing her legs under herself and sitting at attention.

You laugh, but oblige. She listens intently, grin as giddy as you feel. You know she’s already planning your outfit.

* * *

Saturday can’t come fast enough. You don’t see Sam until then, though you weren’t expecting to. You text each other during the week and he tells you to wear something more dressy. Charlie takes that and runs with it. She helps you plan the perfect outfit, down to the heels and the earrings.

“He won’t know what hit him,” she tells you, smoothing your skirt for you.

You roll your eyes, but let her fuss. She knows what she’s doing better than you do, that’s for sure.

You’re saved by the bell. The intercom for the apartment complex buzzes, giving you the chance to slip from her grasp. You hurry to the door and push the button over the speaker.

“Yes?”

Sam’s voice is a little distorted by the intercom, but unmistakable. “Hi, Y/N. Are you ready to go?”

“Yes! I’ll be down in just a moment.”

“Go, go!” Charlie urges as soon as you release the button, already beside you with your purse and jacket. “Don’t want to keep your prince waiting!”

Sam is standing by the front desk, chatting amicably with Arthur the security guard. He looks up when the elevator dings and his whole face lights up in a way that makes your stomach flutter.

“Wow,” he says, turning to face you fully. “You look… wow.”

You blush, smiling as you approach him. “I’m glad Arthur hasn’t scared you off.”

Both men chuckle and Sam relaxes a little. He offers you his arm.

“Shall we go?” he asks playfully.

You take the offered arm. “I think we shall.”

“I want her home by ten,” Arthur says sternly, a hint of teasing in his tone.

“Be nice, Arthur,” you scold. “I’ll be fine.”

* * *

You’re more than fine. Sam takes you to a restaurant on the other side of town, a nice place you’ve been dying to go to but haven’t had the opportunity or funds for. You’re not sure how Sam can afford it, though the few bucks extra he makes as a fur character probably doesn’t hurt.

The more time you spend with Sam, the more you like him. He’s genuinely interested in you, for starters, which is something you haven’t experienced in a long time. It’s really nice, to go on a date with a man as sincere as Sam. He listens intently when you talk and responds with well thought out comments. Sam is smart- really, really smart- and more than capable of maintaining a conversation. You learn a lot about him, including that he actually works full time at a law firm and only works Disneyland in his free time for the extra cash and because he loves working with the kids. In fact, Sam went to Stanford for his degree. You almost feel a little stupid, sitting across from a Stanford graduate, but Sam’s humbleness makes you feel better.

You’re surprised when the waiter comes and asks about dessert- you hadn’t realized your food was gone. Sam shakes his head.

“Just the bill, please,” he says with a smile. When the waiter leaves, he turns back to you. “We’ll get dessert somewhere else. I know where we can get the best shakes in town.”

“That sounds good to me.”

After Sam pays, he helps you into your jackets and you go back out to the car. While Sam drives, you try to guess where he’s taking you. You’re not expecting a little diner with a neon sign reading “Harvelle’s Roadhouse.”

“I’ve never been here,” you say when Sam holds the front door for you.

“You’ll like it,” he assures you. “And we’ll have to come here for a meal sometime, not just dessert. They make incredible burgers. Best in the state, according to Dean.”

“Sam!”

A petite blonde blur flies across the diner and throws herself into Sam’s arms. He stumbles back a little with an “oof,” hands flying up to catch her.

“Hi, Jo,” he says, setting her down.

She punches his arm. “It’s been weeks since we’ve seen you and now you’re bringing dates? Mom’s not gonna be happy.”

“No, I’m not.”

A middle-aged brunette emerges from behind the counter, wiping her hands on a towel. Sam almost shrinks in her presence.

“Hi, Ellen,” he says sheepishly.

She tugs him down into a hug. “Good to see you. Who’s your lovely friend?”

“Ellen, Jo, this is Y/N.” Sam steps back to put a big hand on the top of your back. “Y/N, this is Jo and her mother, Ellen. They’re very close family friends.”

“Pleased to meet you,” you say, a little nervous to be meeting friends so quickly.

“You, too,” Ellen says kindly. She reminds you of your mom.

“Where has Sam been hiding you?” Jo’s voice is light and teasing as she nudges the tall man with her elbow.

He shakes his head, laughing. “This is only our first date. Y/N works on Space Mountain.”

The conversation goes from there. Jo and Ellen are awesome. Combine that with the delicious milkshake Sam chooses for you and you can see why Sam brought you here.

“I like them,” you tell him once you’re in the car, on the way back to your apartment.

“I think they like you,” Sam says honestly.

“So,” you say slowly. “Now will you tell me how much of the books are true?” you shoot him a playful grin.

He laughs. “Well, a surprising amount of the backstory. My mom did die in a house fire when I was younger and my dad kind of went off the deepend. He swore up and down that she’d been murdered and became a P.I. in order to try and find her killer.” he sighs deeply. “I managed to get access to the police reports a few years back. It was faulty wiring that caused the fire.”

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

Sam reaches over and takes your hand. “Thank you. Dean and I turned out okay, I think. His business is doing great. I’m slowly moving up the ranks at the law firm. We’ve come a long way from a couple of little kids sleeping in the backseat of a car.”

“Oh, yeah, is the car real?”

That pulls an abrupt laugh from Sam as he turns into the parking lot of your apartment complex. “Everyone who’s read the books wants to know that,” he says, turning the face you. “It’s real. Dean takes great care of it, too. He loves that car.”

“Dean sounds like a great guy,” you tell him.

Sam’s smile softens into fondness at the thought of his brother. “Yeah, he is. He would like you. You’ll have to come over and meet him. He can make us dinner.”

“Did you just volunteer your brother to cook for us?” you chuckle.

“He won’t mind. Are you working next Saturday?”

You shake your head. “I’m not, unfortunately.”

Sam pouts, putting on a puppy face that could tear through the strongest defenses. You sigh, rolling your eyes, and grab his hands.

“I’m not working that morning,” you tell him. “My shift doesn’t start until three. We could do brunch.”

He brightens up immediately. “Okay. I’ll text you details?”

“That sounds good to me.”

Before you can move, Sam leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek. Your cheeks heat up and you force yourself to return the kiss before you lose your nerve. Sam smiles.

“Walk you to the elevator?” he offers.

“Alright,” you say past the happy skipping of your heart

* * *

If you were nervous before your date with Sam, you’re even more nervous before brunch with his brother. Sam gave you his address and you borrow Charlie’s car. You arrive at the pleasant condo about ten minutes early, just so you can sit in the car for a while and get up the nerve to go knock on the door.

Sam answers it. “Y/N!” he ushers you inside and takes your jacket. “I’m glad you’re here.” he loops a tentative arm across your shoulders. When you relax into his embrace, he relaxes as well. “Cas arrived home last night. They’re both really eager to meet you.”

“I’m nervous,” you admit.

“They’re going to love you,” Sam assures you. “Come on. Don’t want the food to get cold.”

Dean Winchester is a tall man- short than his brother, but still tall- and Castiel is only a few inches shorter than the other two. Apparently height and good looks are a theme in this family, because both men are absolutely stunning. Dean has striking green eyes on a handsome face, one you would definitely be attracted to under different circumstances. His boyfriend- who you’re still having a hard time believe is one of your favorite authors- has gentle blue eyes and a gummy smile that makes your insides melt.

You’re screwed, to be quite honest.

Dean made piles and piles of pancakes, steaming in the center of the table. There’s bowls of fresh-cut fruit and bottles of syrup accompanying the pancakes. Cas sets a pitcher of orange juice on the table.

“Fresh squeezed,” he tells you. “I like to make it when I get the chance.”

“You’ll have to teach me,” you suggest, eyeing all the food. You haven’t eaten yet today and your stomach is definitely letting you know.

“I will,” Cas promises.

As the four of you sit down to eat, you can’t help feeling this won’t be the last time.

You’re right.

* * *

“Wait, Daddy was a  _prince_?”


End file.
